Undefeated
by Baroness Emma
Summary: Tony and Pepper present an Oscar, and then have an after-party all to themselves. Set right after IM2. Very mild spoilers. T rating only to be safe, it's more of a K-plus.
1. It's the Oscars, Grouch

This one is shamelessly stolen from real life. Robert Downey Jr. and Gwyneth Paltrow presented the Oscar for Best Documentary this year (2012). While onstage, they were totally Tony and Pepper. Seriously, sometimes the fanfic just writes itself. . .

http: /www. youtube. com/watch?v=OTcNX_n3lIQ

And here's the soundtrack for the third chapter -

http :/www .youtube .com /watch?v=8PTDv_szmL0&list=FLO96D9IhXdSlLzDufm2gQWg&index=38&feature=plpp_video

You know the drill - remove the spaces, copy/paste, etc.

At this point, do I even need to say I don't own any of this? Well, I don't.

Enjoy!

* * *

**It's The Oscars, Grouch**

"Tony, you really need to put on your pants."

"Just a sec. Jarvis?"

_"Yes sir?"_

"How are the mods coming for the Mark 5.5?"

_"The fabrication will take approximately 15 more min. . ."_

"Tony, just put on your pants."

"Just a _second_, Pep. Is the finish going to flake off like it did during the tests this afternoon?"

_"The addition of the new silicates seems to be preventing. . ."_

"Anthony Edward Stark. Pants. Now."

"Well, make sure it gets properly polished - that crazing really ruined the whole effec. . ."

"Tony! If you don't put on some pants _immediately_, I am not going to go with you!"

He finally stopped toweling off his hair and chatting with Jarvis, and turned and looked at her. She was wearing a statuesque white drapey thing that he could have sworn was designed to give him the worst kind of sleepless night, and she had obviously put on the four-and-a-_half_ inch heels tonight, because she was a bit more towering than usual. And there were those deliberate little curls of hair around her neck. . . Blast it all, this was _not_ the moment for daydreaming. . .

"What's wrong Pepper?" Casual. That was the ticket.

Her jaw jutted a little, and her eyes narrowed, "Tony, you have just gotten out of the shower, and we need to be out of here in less than 20 minutes. Since you are incapable of not getting distracted, I am going to stand here and watch you." She crossed her arms. "_So put on your pants._ "

"Right. Sure." He grabbed the pair of dress slacks she had laid out for him and decided not to mention that he was already wearing boxers. She obviously wasn't in the mood for semantics. "You _have_ to come tonight - it's the freaking _Oscars_, Pep - you don't turn them down." Of course, one didn't generally turn down Tony Stark, either, but best not to mention that right now either.

"Right, Tony, and that's why the Academy had to reschedule a meeting _four times _before you actually talked to any of them, is it?"

She was leaning on the partition wall, dispassionately watching him button up a black silk dress shirt. Just seeing her there made him have trouble with the buttons. . .

Suave. "I guess I'm just that irresistible. And I don't like this tie." He tossed the green and blue striped thing to the side and ducked into the closet to retrieve a silvery damask bow tie he'd just picked up. Distinctive. Flashy _and_ classy.

She came over to tie it for him, "No, Tony, it's because the documentary they made about _you_ was nominated last year, and traditionally. . ."

"Yeah, and what was up with that thing about the King of England winning instead of us? A Da Vinci of our time should beat out royalty. . ." Be cocky. The abrasive sting of it could cover what that musky, spicy smell of her was doing to him.

She exhaled sharply. That _wasn't helping_. "You might be handing a gold statuette to a member of royalty tonight, Tony, so _please_ remember. . ."

She was _really_ close to him. "I won't have to. You'll be there, presenting it with me." She finished tying the bow tie and stood back to look at him. "Right?"

"I'm only coming if you go do your hair. _Now_. Quickly."

Oh, the teasing possibilities. "Right."

A few sprays of a marvelously overpriced hair product and a few sweeps of a comb later, he was ready.

"Finally," she said, looking him over critically, one more time.

"Hey, I wasn't _that_ lon. . ."

"And isn't this situation supposed to be the other way around?

"What?" He grabbed his sunglasses and his wallet and started towards the elevator.

"Aren't I supposed to be the one preening at the last minute and you're the one supposed to be pacing and waiting for me?"

"I don't preen. . ."

"Yes you do, don't change the subject - why do you always wait until I have to drag you out of the house just to get somewhere on time?"

They exited into the workshop, and Tony went over to prep the newly modified 5.5. "I dunno - maybe it's because you'd be gorgeous if you were barefoot in a dirty burka, while _I _have to rely on carefully cultivated charm - takes more time than real beauty, you know." He risked a look at her. Truth could be a lot more dangerous than their usual shallow banter. . .

She shrugged the comment off. "So, is it ready?" She looked at the specially painted suit.

"Sure is." He stepped onto the platform and Jarvis began assembling the suit around him, "Did you make sure Happy has my shoes? I'm not wearing shoes inside the repulsor boots _ever_ again. I was limping all over the Expo. . ."

"He has them. They're in the limo, and he'll make sure you get them before it's time to go backstage." While she was talking, Jarvis finished the assembly of the suit and ran a quick system check.

"Right," said Tony, turning to her, "Kiss for luck?"

She smiled at him and pushed a curl behind her ear.

"You don't need luck."

He half smirked, "Right."

Then the faceplate clanked shut. His mechanized voice said, "See you there," and he was gone.

She got into her car and followed him.


	2. And We're Golden

**And We're Golden**

He was used to red carpets, and he was used to being an attraction, but he had never been this _kind_ of red carpet attraction before, and quite frankly, Pepper was a little worried.

She punched a button on her custom dashboard. "Jarvis?"

_"Yes, Miss Potts?"_

"How's Tony?"

_"He has just landed. He seems to be causing quite a stir."_

"Well, he would. Keep monitoring him for me, would you?"

_"Certainly."_

She pulled up behind the Kodak Theater, managing, by some miracle, to get to the reserved parking space next to the Stark limo without having to run anyone down or flip anyone a hand gesture. She waved to Happy, who was in animated discussion with the usual group of chauffeur/bodyguards one saw at these functions, and made her way to the red carpet. People - that is, people who "mattered" - had just started arriving. She pushed her way relatively close to the velvet cords that streamlined the gawking process, and managed to pick out Tony extremely easily. He had modified this version of the Iron Man suit to be an almost exact life-size replica of the Academy Award statuette. Where the arc would have been was covered by a golden circular plate, and he had left the sword out of the costume design, but otherwise he looked just like a moving, talking version of the six foot tall Oscar statue by the big double doors. Pepper thought it was almost as kitschy as the big plastic-headed Mickey Mouse players at Disneyland, but Tony had volunteered to do it, and she no longer had veto power on all his personal decisions. The incredibly glossy gold finish on this suit was only heightened by the incessant flash-photography, and Tony was, of course, playing up the role to the full. She could only just hear the banter and innuendo that stars and reporters were tossing around, but only clearly caught one section before the cheering for the next big arrival drowned it all out.

"Well, of _course_ I'm not carrying that big sword - I don't have anything to compensate _for_. . ."

She imagined she could hear a bit of carefully hidden strain in his voice, and wasn't surprised when he moved over a little and became "The Other Oscar Statue Next To The Door" for a while. She wasn't surprised when her phone rang, either.

"Hey Pep," he said, sounding absurdly casual, "Go ahead and get inside - this face parade is going to last a while."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine, just a little warm in a wool suit AND a metal one, go on - get clear, and I'll see you backstage."

"Okay." She sounded a bit skeptical, but Tony knew she'd go, if for no other reason than to get away from the noise and the crowds.

He was glad she went, too, because what with all the greetings and pictures and general show-off orgy, he had spotted Jakob Leigh and his camera crew. Jake was a friend, and one of the best independent cameramen in Hollywood. He also had a wicked sense of humor, and Tony had just had an idea. . .

"Jarvis?"

_"Yes sir?"_

"See Jake Leigh over there?"

_"I do indeed, sir."_

"Well wait until he gets his next take, then call him up, and tell him I've got a special job I want him to do."

_"Now, sir?"_

Tony smirked behind the faceplate. Every reporter and star he had talked to tonight, even though he was flamboyantly and distractingly dressed as the whole reason and goal of the evening, they had still wanted to know if he was dating anyone. If Iron Man (or Oscar Man, as he was, for tonight) could get a girlfriend. He had hoped this little dress-up stunt would have put them off. . . and nowadays, of course, he couldn't resort to his usual backup plan of flirting with anything in high heels. The rumors and the stories were literally _flying_ around, becoming more cruel by the minute, and thus more interesting and almost more important than the _Academy Awards_. Hmph. Time to put a stop to all that. He looked around and made sure Pepper was gone.

"Yes, Jarvis. Right now."

* * *

After all the "important" faces had walked the red carpet, Tony zipped back to the limo, which he had modified so that the mini-bar was replaced with a compact form of the 'bots in the workshop, which could remove the suit and store it safely. He retrieved his shoes from Happy, and made his way backstage.

Things were appropriately hectic, of course, but he had the speech Pepper had written out, and he spotted Jake over in a corner talking to an assistant. Tony looked around, but couldn't see Pepper until he had pushed his way into the only corner that had empty chairs. She was there, looking as she usually did before facing a crowd of people she didn't know - a little scared, but not at all shy, adorably awkward, but not in the least unsure of herself.

"They're having me enter stage right, and you stage left, okay?"

"Sure." She was a little shaky, but sounded good. "Did they give you the envelope?"

"Not yet - they'll hand it to me right before I go out."

"Of course."

She was pacing - well, as much as she _could_ pace in an area about the size of handicapped bathroom stall.

"You know you can relax, right?" He said, not wanting her to be at all frazzled - not before what he was planning, at any rate.

"Tony. . ." she said, and then stopped. She pivoted on a heel and and pointed at him. "_You_, Tony Stark, are going out in front of thousands of people and a huge T.V. audience, and you're telling me to _relax_? Do you _remember_ what happened last time we were backstage together and you got told to read from a stack of cards? _Do you_?" There was an edge of hysteria in her voice now.

Calm. "Yeah, and it worked out okay, didn't it?" He took her by the elbow, "Hey, easy Pep. . ." He leaned over a pecked her on her cheek, "We'll be fine."

"We will?"

"Yeah, we will."

He pulled her closer for a little bit more of a kiss, but she pulled away _just_ when he could feel her relaxing into it.

"There isn't time for. . ."

He sighed, "No, there never _is_, is there?"

She looked a bit chagrined at that, but then looked at him, imploring, "Tony, just. . . read from the cards, okay?"

"Sure thing." And he would too.

Eventually.

* * *

After the rush of makeup crews and other preparatory rigmarole, hanging out backstage waiting to go on was a welcome relief. Of course, having to wait on the opposite side of the stage from Pepper was a blessing _and_ an annoyance - he missed talking to her, even just seeing her - but he got to finalize his setup with Jake without interruption or Pepper even knowing about it, which was a plus.

She wouldn't understand, of course. . . well, until he explained it afterwards. Then she'd be fine with it.

Hopefully.

Maybe.

If he was lucky.

He fidgeted. Waiting, standing still, and doing things in the proper order were the top three things on his non-skill list.

Finally, the winner's envelope arrived, he heard his cue, and saw Pepper gracefully walking out across the stage from him.

He gestured to Jake to start rolling film, and then he knelt down and put his head in his hands, as though he were collecting some very deep thoughts.

He could feel Pepper's gaze on him.

No going back now.

He stood, thinking about all the publicity stunts and selling tactics he and Obadiah had devised over the years, and he was instantly in character.

Swagger. Slow. Let the camera fawn over you.

He heard Jake try really hard not to laugh. That was good, that meant. . .

Ah, there we go, the audience was laughing.

But Pepper wasn't.

"What, um, what are you doing, here?"

She was confused but not quite as furious as he feared she would be. Jake swung around both of them, as he finally reached her side.

He reset his shoulders and preened for the camera, "I'm filming a documentary called. . ." Pause for effect. "The Presenter."

He finally looked at her, _begging_ her to play along.

Was there a little bit of realization in her face now? "Really - so "The Presenter" not "The Presenters"?

YES.

Pompous. "Relax, we tested both, plural titles are out this year." He sniffed, priggishly. "It's not "The Artists". Anyway, let's keep it flowing, honey."

Shock from the audience, and from Pepper. He'd _never_ called a woman that in public before. Pepper did a quick double take, but got distracted by Jake getting wayyyy too close with the camera.

"Okay, I, uh - this is so weird!"

Jake was playing his part perfectly.

"Give her a little space." He gestured and tried to look sophisticated.

She took a deep breath, "Our category tonight is best documentar. . ."

"Please don't talk while I'm talking, it'll make post a nightmare." Provoke her. It's the only way. "This thing wants to be on Netflix by midnight."

Now she was starting to get angry, "Well, actually, you cut me off, _honey_, okay?"

He smirked, just a little, and she forged on.

"Documentaries, as the great Mark Twain said, "Truth is stranger than fi- "

"Boring! I feel scripted, it's weird, sorry." Ah, here we go. "What?" She advanced on him, grabbing his lapel, "Get this, get this." Jake zoomed in.

She lowered her voice. "This, what you're doing right now?"

Casual. "Yeah?"

"Seriously, this is disrespectful."

Unconcerned. "It is?"

"And it's disruptive."

Lay on the suave. "Right."

"Yes."

Be obtuse. "What?"

She wasn't just angry, she really was confused. "And it's totally crazy."

Bluff. "Uh, look, I turned down a cameo in "The Descendants" to prep for this, so, I don't wanna hear about that."

"You're insane."

He gestured at Jake, "No, what I'm doing is bleeding edge - this is live documentary."

She'd had enough, "Tony! That's called the _news_!"

The audience was eating it up. This was a lover's quarrel onstage, and they laughed right along, just like he'd hoped.

"No."

"Yes! And don't talk while I'm talking, okay? And there is no way you turned down anything to do with The Descendants." The audience laughed. "Am I right? Plural title, by the way." She was cruising now. Perfect.

He pulled Jake's camera to his eye level and preened again before saying, over-dramatically - "Here, are the nominees, for best documentary feature. . ." But all he saw was Pepper's reflection in the lens. It was distorted, but he could see her.

She was smiling.

Still clips from the films and Pepper's voiceover played in the big screen behind them, and then he got to open the envelope and say the iconic words. . .

"And the Oscar goes to. . . Undefeated. . ." and the rest was drowned out by the cheering.

The winners came onstage, crowding around the mike. Both he and Pepper stayed for a few seconds, giving handshakes and hugs, and then they let them have center stage. He reached around one of them and took her hand firmly, leading her out of the melee, and off backstage where she had come. She didn't say a word. He flipped out his phone, calling for Happy to come around to the stage doors.

Jake had already melted away into the background.

Perfect.

Well, it would be when she stopped being furious at him.


	3. Undefeated

**Undefeated**

He steered her into the back of the limo, and Happy pulled smoothly out of the lot. Tony grimaced a little when a few media stragglers saw them get into the car, since it had been a fairly longstanding joke amongst reporters, he knew, that if a girl got into the back of a limo with him. . . well, to put it politely, they would always say that after achiving that stage of things, his record was unbroken.

Except for Pepper, that was true, actually. . .

But he didn't want to think about his past now, because his present was looking at him like she was going to put his future in grave doubt.

"Once, just _once_, you couldn't _read from the damn cards_?"

Deflect. "Whoa, wait, Pepper, did you just _swear_?"

She was having none of it. "Tony, do you realize what that performance is going to _do_? The rumors that are going to start - and you totally stole the spotlight from the people who _earned_ it tonight."

"Oh no, Pep, I _helped_ them. Do you know how many more people are going to see that movie now, just because you and I were standing there when it won?"

She blinked, and spluttered a little.

"B-but, you. . . why, Tony, _why_?"

He slid closer to her, and put a comforting arm around her shoulders. "It isn't your job to know all the rumors that go around about me - though you generally do anyway - but lately you've been really busy with. . . other things. . . and I've had to keep up for myself, and. . ."

"And?"

Was that humor he saw behind her eyes?

"Well. . ."

Her jaw set tightly. "Yes?"

Nope, she was still furious.

"I'm not going to tell you all the things they're saying, but I wanted to preempt some things. . . some things that we both don't want getting around." He saw her angry facade break just a little. "You _know_ that starting your own round of "exclusive" stories gives you some control - that's what we did with Obi, and when I shot my mouth off about Iron Man, _and_ what we did about Ivan at the Expo - and _please_ don't say I should have warned you, because you'd never have agreed." She chewed the inside of her lip and glanced sideways at him. "All that's going to happen now is the rumor mill will start saying I'm sweet on you, and now that you're not my personal assistant, you've become my naughty-secret-slave-girl-baby-momma." She rolled her eyes. "Or something like that - and you've dealt with _that _before." She closed her eyes and sighed a little. "Besides - Jake wanted to get some footage of you in that dress. . ."

He broke off when she gave a loud guffaw and stated laughing outright.

"You. . . you and Jake. . . were so _funny_. . ." she paused for breath, "I just _wish_ you'd warn me about these things Tony - I - I . . ." she laughed some more and then sobered, "I might say yes, you know."

"Really?" he lowered his voice, "Because you've never told me yes yet. . ."

"Tony. . ." and all at once the mood changed dramatically.

They didn't speak for a minute. During the silence, Happy pulled up at a nice restaurant downtown. She looked out of the window, confused.

"Wh-what?"

"Surprise." He got up and handed her out of the car, to the private entrance to his favorite Italian place. . . actually he owned the property, and they kept a special private dining room just for him. All of which Pepper knew, but he'd never taken her here before. . .

"Tony?" she turned to him just before going inside.

Happy had driven off, and the night air was chilly, but not too breezy. She looked cool and kissable in the half-light from the streetlamps.

"Yeah?"

"Why did you volunteer to do the Oscars?"

He took a deep breath and opened the door, "Because it was the only way you'd go out with me." He stepped inside, knowing she'd close the door behind her.

The room was refreshingly large for a private dining room meant for two, and it was decorated in a sort of wildly luxurious elegance that did not at all suggest a restaurant, but more a prince's hunting lodge.

Or a billionaire's playground. . .

"Tony, I. . ."

"Here," he handed her a glass of something sparkling, and she was stunned to find it was sweet cider. All the ninety degree turns tonight were making her head spin. . .

"And do you want to know why I had to reschedule my meeting with the Academy four times, Pepper? It was because I wanted to watch all the movies they had nominated this year - ALL of them, including the shorts. And then I watched a bunch of things that _hadn't_ gotten the nod. I wasn't going to lend my name - or yours - to a function or a movie without knowing about it - AND its competition - first. And with being a high powered executive, an inventor, _and_ a superhero, I just didn't have a lot of time to do the research I wanted. . ."

He shut up. She was vibrating with something to say, but she couldn't say it just yet, and clearly he had caught on to that, at last.

He put down his own glass of cider and came over and just held her.

"I know I'm a royal pain in the ass, and a loose cannon in more ways than one, Pep, but I. . ." he coughed a little, burying his head in her shoulder.

"Let's dance," he turned a pulled her towards the large open space before the fireplace.

"Oh, no. . ."

"Yes, Pep, there's no one here to watch. . ."

"But I. . ."

"Just dance, Pepper. Please. With me."

"There's no musi-"

He snapped, imperious and triumphant, and the music started.

She sighed, kicking off her shoes, deciding to be comfortable, at least.

He grinned at finding them the same height, and eye-to-eye at last, he took the lead.

_Beautiful girls all over the world, _

_I could be chasing, _

_But my time would be wasted, _

_They got nothing on you, baby. _

She wondered if he had been practicing his dancing skills as well as doing exhaustive research about his public appearances, because his steps were much smoother than that awkward dance at the party all those months ago. Now, she felt like she actually _wanted_ him to lead. . .

_I know you feel where I'm coming from, _

_Regardless of the things in my past that I've done, _

_Most of it really was for the hell of the fun, _

_On a carousel, so around I spun, _

_With no direction, just trying to get some, _

_Trying to chase skirts, living in the summer sun, _

_And so I lost more than I had ever won, _

_And honestly, I ended up with none._

He wondered if she knew how lonely he was. Jarvis and robots did not a family make. For so long she had been the only woman he had wanted to just _be _around. He didn't know if that was love, but he did know it was a thousand times better than anything else he had felt for a woman ever since his mother died. . .

_It's so much nonsense, it's on my conscience, _

_I'm thinking maybe I should get it out, _

_And I don't want to sound redundant, _

_But I was wondering, if there was something that you want to know, _

_But never mind that, we should let it go, _

_'Cause we don't want to be a TV episode, _

_And all the bad thoughts just let them go._

Maybe it was time for her to stop being so afraid of what this man could do to her. . . Maybe he could be trusted with something more than affection. . . Maybe he needed something more than the friend she knew she was to him. . .

Maybe. . .

_Beautiful girls all over the world, _

_I could be chasing, _

_But my time would be wasted, _

_They got nothing on you, baby. _

He'd been building up to this all day, and now there seemed nothing to say. He was dancing, in a private room, with the only woman he wanted, and he couldn't _say_ anything. He would have been embarrassed if it didn't feel so _right_.

_They might say hi, and I might say hey, _

_But you shouldn't worry, about what they say, _

_'Cause they got nothing on you, baby._

Imagine him actually caring about what the rumor mill was up to. He'd never been one to care that much about his public image - he just did whatever the hell he wanted and let her or Rhodey or Obi clean up after him. Reporters loved him, but hated her because when she took charge they knew they weren't going to get. . .

Oh.

He had cared what the rumors were saying about _her_, not him.

For the first time that evening, she blushed, hoping he didn't see. . .

_Hands down, there will never be another one,_

_I've been around, and I've never seen another one, _

_Because your style, I ain't really got nothing on, _

_And you wild when you ain't got nothing on? - Baby you the whole package, _

_Plus you pay your taxes, _

_And you keep it real, while them others stay plastic, _

_You're my Wonder Woman, call me Mr. Fantastic,_

_Stop. . . _

_Now think about it._

He felt her hands go warm, and he looked and saw her face flush. He wondered what she was thinking. He knew what _he_ was thinking, and to distract himself he imagined what her superpower would be, if she ever wanted to be a superhero.

He doubted Stark Wrangling counted. . .

_I've been to London, I've been to Paris, _

_Even way out there in Tokyo, _

_Back home down in Georgia, to New Orleans, _

_But you always steal the show, _

_And just like that, girl you got me froze, _

_Like a Nintendo 64, _

_If you never knew, well, now you know._

He hadn't said anything for the past three minutes, and. . . and she didn't think he'd ever been more eloquent. She knew he could be a gentleman when he tried, but she'd never seen him try like this before. It was more than livable, it was. . . really rather wonderful.

_Beautiful girls all over the world, _

_I could be chasing, _

_But my time would be wasted, _

_They got nothing on you, baby. _

He'd brought her here because he loved this old restaurant, knew and trusted the manager, and wanted to show her a good time, but now he was glad they were here _because_ he loved this place. There was love involved in this thing, somewhere, at least.

_They might say hi, and I might say hey, _

_But you shouldn't worry, about what they say, _

_'Cause they got nothing on you, baby._

She had a crazy impulse, and for a second she wondered if there _had_ been something in that cider. . . but no. Tony wasn't that type, especially not nowadays. Not. . . not like this. . . no, he wouldn't.

Oh well, it was Oscar night, and she was on a blind date with Tony Stark. . . if she couldn't give into a mad impulse now, when could she?

She leaned her head on his shoulder. . .

_Everywhere I go, I'm always hearing your name, _

_And no matter where I'm at, girl, you make me want to sing, _

_Whether a bus or a plane, or a car, or a train, _

_No other girls on my brain, _

_And you're the one to blame._

He'd never have thought that the sight of a woman just simply _relaxing_ in his presence could be so powerful. Was it a cliche to say she had just rocked his world?

Oh, he didn't _care_. . .

Unless she stopped him, in three seconds he was going to kiss her. . .

_Beautiful girls all over the world, _

_I could be chasing, _

_But my time would be wasted, _

_They got nothing on you, baby. _

She could feel him winding up. This is what he'd been looking for from her all night - not an invitation, an embrace.

Of course he wanted an invitation too. ..

Alright, well. . .

Whether it was time or not, she was comfortable enough to be brave.

"Tony?"

"Hmm?"

"Yes."

* * *

_They might say hi, and I might say hey, _

_But you shouldn't worry, about what they say, _

_'Cause they got nothing on you, baby._

He might not care about it the same way he used to, but it was pretty clear from that point on that the Stark record _was_, in fact, undefeated.

_Fin._


End file.
